Rescuing Max
by PaperPioneer
Summary: Eleanor demanded Max's release from Vane and his men. That was easy compared to gaining Max's forgiveness.


"Give her to me," Eleanor demanded. Her tone was firm, but not loud. She was not going to yell at Vane. She knew that Flint's men would back her at the moment, but she also knew that was only because she erased Flint's debt to her. As soon as this mission was complete, she would be on her own again. She didn't want to push Vane too far and risk his retaliation.

Vane scowled but didn't respond. He didn't appreciate the intrusion or the disrespect. Standing outside his tent, glaring at Eleanor and her ten bodyguards, he held his temper only due to the improbability of winning a fight. He wanted to be back in his tent with his whores, not standing outside of it fighting over a different whore, especially one he wasn't even using.

"Bring her!" Eleanor raised her voice slightly, still reluctant to yell.

"You think I'm just going to hand her over? Why would I do that?" Vane sneered. He didn't need the whore, but she did owe him a good deal of money. Plus, she kept the men happy, keeping morale up, and his position as captain secure.

Eleanor stepped closer to Vane and in a tone only he could hear said, "If you ever cared about me at all, just let her go."

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Vane shoved Eleanor back. She stumbled before regaining her balance. One of the men stepped forward, ready to intervene if necessary. Vane smiled, "I won't hurt her," the sneer was back, "I don't need too. I'll just hurt her whore." He emphasized her, to make it clear that Eleanor was involved with Max in more than platonic ways.

Eleanor lurched forward and punched him. He raised his fist to strike back, then dropped it again, sensing the men around Eleanor raise their weapons. Instead, he said loudly, "I never touched her. I hear that she is used up and worthless now. Stretched out, sandy and scratchy inside, not bringing the pleasure she should. You can have your fucking whore." He instructed Jack to bring Max, then stated, "This isn't over. You can have her, but the debt still remains. Someone will pay for it."

Eleanor met his stare, refusing to show fear. She had no doubt Vane would find her alone and beat her for this. That thought worried her, but she would take a beating for Max. It was the least she could take after betraying her.

Neither moved or broke the angry tension until Max was thrown in the sand at Vane's feet. Vane glanced at her, then met Eleanor's piercing glare and smirked. He kicked Max in the ribs, then stated: "I hope this bitch is worth it for you." Max curled her body away from Vane at the same moment he kicked again, connecting his boot with her chin. She made a small, pained noise that caused Eleanor to flinch.

"This won't make you a good person," Vane lowered his voice, no longer yelling for the benefit of the onlookers, his following words meant to strike Eleanor, "I know you. I know you only care about yourself. It's your fault she is here. Does she know that while she was being used by the men, you were in my bed? You're not doing this for her. You're doing it to ease your guilt. You're a shit excuse for a woman." He kicked Max in the ribs again and then used the heel of his boot to push her body across the sand in Eleanor's direction.

Eleanor wouldn't give Vane the satisfaction of her rushing to Max's side, as much as she wanted to. Instead, she nodded at the man to her left, who immediately lifted Max into his arms. Now that she had Max the desire to fight was gone. She only wanted to get away from Vane and his pathetic excuse for men. "Fuck you." She hissed into Vane's face, ignoring his smug grin.

Eleanor walked away, trailed by the man holding Max, leaving the other men to guard Vane until they had put considerable distance between them. Eleanor led the man back to the brothel and up the stairs to Max's room. He laid Max on the bed and stood awkwardly waiting for acknowledgment from Eleanor. It became obvious that Eleanor was only looking at Max, so he let himself out.

As soon as the door closed Max said, "He will beat you for this."

"Shhh." Eleanor squeezed the water from a rag and gently wiped at the cut on Max's lip. She sat on the bed near Max, only because it would be easier to clean her. She knew she wasn't welcome to be on Max's bed, not anymore.

"You should not have done that," Max spoke again, pushing the rag and Eleanor's hand from her face.

Eleanor shook her head in response. The brief contact Max's hands had created by flicking her own hand away clouded her thinking for a second. She closed her eyes and let out a breath. Opening her eyes, she moved to Max's ankle, gently dabbing around the wound left by the shackle. She felt the sting of her tears and didn't trust her voice. She kept her face angled away from Max, focusing intensely on the ankle, while she blinked away the tears.

"I still 'ate you," Max stated, pulling her ankle from Eleanor's grasp.

"You should." Eleanor spoke softly, "I deserve that."

"Why did you risk his anger? He will not give up so easily."

Eleanor looked at Max, straightening her shoulders as she did so. She let a few seconds pass as she gathered her words, finally settling on simplicity, "Because I love you."

Max laughed, although it could have been a choking sound. It certainly wasn't a joyous laugh. She spoke slowly, deliberately enunciating each word, "You are too late."

Eleanor nodded, "I know. But I do." She looked at the rag in her hands, afraid to make eye contact, "I wouldn't presume that I have the right to your forgiveness. But, what Vane said was a lie. I hope you at least know that. This isn't about guilt. I do feel guilt, waves of it, all of which are rightfully mine to bear." She glanced at Max then, hoping her tears would dissipate by Max's glare, "I couldn't leave you with them. I was wrong to choose Flint over you. I can't take it back, and I can't undo what happened, but I could get you out."

"Not all his words were lies." Max's eyes flashed with anger, "Did you run to his bed?"

"Max, I thought you were..." Words failed Eleanor, and she gave up, "I could give you a reason, an excuse, but the answer would still be yes."

"That is what hurts the most." Max said softly, her anger gone in an instant.

"I'm sorry," Eleanor whispered, not sure how to react to a deflated Max. She was floundering, trying her best to make things right while knowing it never could be.

Max turned her head away. Eleanor stood, accepting Max's rejection. She wet the rag again, squeezed out the excess water, and picked up Max's ankle. After giving Max a second to pull away, she again dabbed at the wound. Once the blood was removed, she rinsed the rag and resumed her position on the bed near Max. After a brief, uncomfortable hesitation, she touched the rag to the cut on Max's cheek. She cleaned the bruises and cuts that were accessible and then sighed at the realization that she would have to force Max to look at her to reach the rest.

She stood to clean the rag, then resettled next to Max and gently touched her chin. She felt Max flinch and wasn't sure if it was a reaction from the men or a reaction from Max's hatred of her. Either way, she felt it clinch her heart.

She slowly turned Max's head, relieved when there was no resistance. Tears were flowing from the corners of Max's eyes, but she made no sounds. Eleanor looked at the ceiling for a second, forcing her own tears to recede. She had no right to shed her own. Not here in front of Max. Max kept her eyes fixed on a wall behind Eleanor. Her refusal to make any noise, not sniffles, not hisses from pain, not even audible breathing, unnerved Eleanor. Only Max's compliance with the wound cleaning kept Eleanor from giving up. After cleaning the rag once more, she wiped Max's entire face, catching any dirt spots she may have missed. She then set the rag on the bed, reluctant to move away. She knew that this could be the last chance Max allowed her to be near. She wanted to keep this moment for as long as possible, despite the terrible circumstances that brought them to it.

"I 'ate you." Max's voice wavered, her voice reflecting the tears.

"I know." Eleanor replied, daring to pick up Max's hand. Max didn't pull away.

"I still love you." Max let out a breath, "I don't want too." She made a squeaking noise, and all the noises she had been repressing came flooding out. Eleanor quickly pulled her into her arms, holding the sobbing woman tight against her body. Max tensed but allowed herself to be held.

Eleanor held her until the sounds subsided, Max's breathing calmed, and her body lost the tension. She held her for a few seconds longer, out of her own selfish desire to touch Max. Finally, she pulled away and once again wiped Max's face with the rag.

"Max," She touched the woman's cheek with her finger, bolder now, "I will do anything for you. I was stupid to try to deny it. I will accept your hatred, and if you never come back to me, I will understand. I certainly do not deserve you. But know that I will be here for you, personally or in business. I won't make the same mistake again."

Eleanor touched her lips to Max's forehead, ran her thumb over Max's cheek, and then left the room, depositing the wet rag in the basin on the way past. She would wait for Max's decision, no matter the outcome. She owed Max her patience and wouldn't force her hand. It wasn't until she was safely locked in her office that she allowed her owns sobs free.

Max stayed in her room for three days. One of the girls would bring Max food, but her attempts at conversation were always met with silence. Max bathed, but she never felt clean. She ate little and slept often. Her sleep was plagued with nightmares that left her sweaty and feeling the need for another bath. She heard Eleanor approach her room a few times, each time turned away by the armed guard. He was placed there by Eleanor, but he respected Max's wish to be left alone. Eleanor must have as well. She never argued with the man, and always left quietly.

The third day, Max was staring out the window, lost in her thoughts, when she heard men speaking outside of her door. The conversation went for several seconds, and then a knock sounded on her door. There was a delay, and then the door was opened, the armed guard stepping in with his weapon drawn and pointing at Vane.

Max stood, panic filling her chest. Vane raised his hands and gestured toward the guard with the gun. The guard spoke, "He swears he has no ill intention. I will shoot him."

Vane nodded, "I'm not here for vengeance." Max didn't relax, so Vane continued, "I spoke with Eleanor. Peacefully. I didn't hurt her. We came to an agreement." Max still didn't relax, flinching at Eleanor's name. "She will repay me for the money you cost. As such, I will not harm her or you for the embarrassment she caused in front of my men."

Max remained silent. Her breathing slowed, the panic subsiding, but she didn't lose the tension in her body.

Vane smiled sincerely, not the arrogant one he usually displayed to intimidate others. He lowered his hands but made no move toward Max. "I'm going to be outright with my reason for being here. Eleanor risked a great deal confronting me. She reacts passionately, but not always logically. Storming that beach for you was a combination of both, though stronger with passion than logic. It was a decision she does not regret for a second. She told me as much this morning when we spoke." He paused, reflecting on something personal, "I thought I knew what it was like to be loved by her. I realized long ago, seeing her with you, that I didn't. She never felt for me what she feels for you."

He tried unsuccessfully to gauge Max's expression before continuing, "My point is that you are mad at her. In that anger, you are laying this blame on her and she is taking it. She's punishing herself, drinking, losing sleep, and losing focus. All because she believes that she lost you. You can let her keep accepting this blame if you wish. You know though, deep down, this isn't only at Eleanor's feet. You were scheming behind her back and when that scheme came crashing down, and Eleanor did what was necessary to save herself, you faulted her."

He saw the change in Max's demeanor then, as though she had been slapped. She still didn't speak, but he knew his words were bothering her. "You need to accept your share of the blame for meddling and creating this situation. Let Eleanor have some peace." With that, he turned, flashed a grin at the guard, and left.

Max sat down again, unsure how to process Vane's comments. A few minutes later she heard Eleanor's raised voice outside her door, screaming at the guard for letting Vane in the room. The guard's response was muffled, but Eleanor's follow up question about Max's well being came through clear. The guard must have responded that she was fine because Eleanor's tone lowered. After a few more muffled words, she heard the floorboards scuff as Eleanor walked away.

Max rushed to the door, yanking it open and calling for Eleanor. She didn't know what she would say, but she couldn't let Eleanor leave. After Eleanor walked into her room, surprise all over her face, Max closed the door and let out a long, slow breath. This was going to be a difficult conversation. Vane was right about her not being blameless. She didn't know if she could entirely forgive Eleanor, or how she would go about doing so, but she knew she loved her. They loved each other, and that was a start.


End file.
